When the gods were generous
by delos13
Summary: This is my current year tribute to Hephaistion's memory. It's AU where, like the title implies, the gods were generous and granted A, H and some others a long life. When Hephaistion dies, Alexander is still heartbroken and wishes to join his beloved. The story ends abruptly on purpose, without coming to it's logical end, just like Hephaistion's and Alexander's lives in reality.


"It's almost seven months and Alexander is still inconsolable," Ptolemy sighed and shook his head, "in our age…"

"In our age?!" thundered Perdiccas and stared in hatred at his comrade, "even in our age it doesn't take half a year to travel from Alexandria to Babylon! Praise the gods that I didn't want to upset Alexander even further and didn't tell him the true story, he was told that you were gravely ill."

"Well, it didn't seem that he was happy to see me after he was told I was almost dying," the Egyptian satrap pursed his lips in what was supposed to be the show of offence taken personally. "He hardly exchanged in few words with me and didn't even ask about my wellbeing. I am ten years older than him and after Hephaistion's death…. not many of us left, those who shared Alexander's youth."

"You are just the same old egoistical bastard!" spewed Perdiccas. "The only person you ever cared about was you!"

"If I didn't change much over the years there is no reason to be upset, you're not young yourself and should be more conscious of your own mortality." Ptolemy looked at Perdiccas with soft, caring expression on his face as if his old antagonist's health and welfare were indeed foremost in his thoughts.

Perdiccas stared at Ptolemy with utmost disgust and they locked their gazes like that for some moments. In his eighties Ptolemy's plump body and soft fatherly appearance were in deep contrast with Perdiccas' wiry but stoop body. Both needed to rely on canes to move around though for completely different reasons. Ptolemy's ruddy wrinkled cheeks, full lips that readily turned into benevolent smile and somewhat watery eyes exuded gentleness and kindness. Perdiccas, on the other hand, looked like old hawk or a gnarled tree with sharp limbs, thin lips that more often than not curved with disdain and still very dark and lively eyes that lit intermittently with either anger or scorn towards the person who happened to be his companion at the moment.

"I just can't understand what made you to hate Hephaistion so much that you used every lame excuse not to attend his funeral and the events that Alexander planned for the months after Hephaistion's death. Even Krateros dragged his old sorry ass all the way from Albion to express his condolences. He is the same age as you!" continued to fume Perdiccas.

"Your memory started to fail you," Ptolemy easily faked his concern and stared at Perdiccas almost in adoration, "Krateros is three years younger. I think Hephaistion's death is a sign that our time is near. I've heard that Leonnatos is almost bedridden and had to be brought to Babylon in a stretcher, very comfortable, though, as befits the governor of Macedon."

"Yet it took him three times less to arrive to Babylon than it took you!" spewed out Perdiccas, relentless in his indignation. He had all the reasons to be so. He had to send secretly his own grandson to fetch Ptolemy from Egypt when Alexander became too upset that his old friend didn't attend Hephaistion's funeral and didn't send any honorary emissary from Egypt.

"It is closer from Pella to Babylon than from Siwah," with a sigh that was supposed to indicate patience explained Ptolemy.

"When was the last time you looked at the maps?" Perdiccas continued to fume, "and what were you doing in Siwah? Isn't Alexandria supposed to be your new capital?"

"Of course it is. I wish you saw how beautiful the city became. I put so much money and efforts into it. You never visited."

"I have more important things to do and it was not your money to begin with!"

"It was money Alexander trusted me with. Besides, I made wise decisions and Egypt's coffers are full; in high contrast, I've heard, to the imperial treasury in Babylon. Alexander still doesn't realize that money doesn't grow on trees and Persian golden wells destined to dry one day."

"How dare you!" Perdiccas' launched at Ptolemy trying to hit him with his cane but almost fell, losing the balance. He was caught by Ptolemy in a mid-fall and helped up. The slew of servants rushed in to support both dignitaries and Perdiccas was given his cane back in reverence by a young slave.

"We are too old for this," Ptolemy was the first to break the silence. "For the sake of old friendship, can't we talk in peace?"

"There never has been any friendship between us," Perdiccas said in hatred and, turning his back to Ptolemy, started to put distance between himself and the man he always hated.

X

All Alexander could hear were the raised voices of his two old generals but the king didn't need to know the words to figure out what they were arguing about. Not that it matter any longer. Nothing, actually, mattered after Hephaistion's death. Ptolemy's reluctance to attend the last honours given to Hephaistion stung but not enough to elicit any display of emotions. There were no emotions left besides grief and sorrow. Maybe it wasn't Ptolemy's fault after all, maybe he indeed didn't know. Maybe Ptolemy's son, another Ptolemy, was guilty of thinking more of his father than of possible anger of the all-powerful but old king. He only needed to say a word and old Ptolemy and his numerous brood will be put to sword and another satrap will be chosen to govern Egypt. But what was the point?

Will it bring Hephaistion back? No. Will it make his own remaining days any brighter? No again. The only reason for remaining alive after Hephaistion was taken by the gods from him was to make sure that Hephaistion's name will shine alongside of his own, that his beloved won't be forgotten the moment Alexander's own soul joins that of Hephaistion's in the Elysian Fields. All throughout the empire Hephaistion's images decorated the most prominent public places, the temples were erected in his own name, the writers laboured tirelessly to put to memory his beloved every deed. Nothing seemed enough to satisfy Alexander and sometimes he even scolded Hephaistion's spirit for being so stubborn during his mortal life and refusing all the honours the king wished to bestow on him.

Alexander fondly traced his beloved's features on the exquisite marble head that the king kept on the special table. The only one that during his life Hephaistion didn't send to storage room and allowed Alexander to keep in their bedroom. There were two heads, actually, one of Hephaistion and one of Alexander, both as young boys, still at Mieza. The king sadly smiled, his lover's infectious laugh still alive in his head, "We looked nothing like this in Mieza! This sculptor wasn't even born when Aristotle lectured us on the world's order." It was this "unlikeness" to the originals that insured heads' survival. All the other things….Alexander cast a glance at the familiar surroundings, he collected them after Hephaistion's death from different places and brought to his room where he could sit and drown himself in the memories of the past.

Alexander's glance fell on one of his recently rediscovered treasures – a toy pyramid that once belonged to Hephaistion's daughter. It was a present from Glaukos, a doctor on whose watch Hephaistion almost died many years ago in Ecbatana. Alexander wanted to execute him but Hephaistion intervened and grateful Glaukos ordered a special gift from the local craftsmen. It was a wooden circle with spoke in the middle. On the spoke seven rings could be placed, each of different colour, white, black, scarlet, blue, orange, silver and gold – to correspond to the colours of seven walls that surrounded Ecbatana. The wooden base was cut from the tree in the sacred grove that was popular with local women who came there to pray to Anahita, the local goddess of fertility, among other things. True enough, the present worked its magic, by the time the army left Babylon to conquer Arabia, Drypetis, Hephaistion's wife, was heavy with child.

Alexander took pyramid in his hand and started to take the rings from the pole. Conquest of Arabia, it seemed like ages ago. Hephaistion was severely wounded in one of the first battles, put himself in the harm's way protecting Alexander. The wound didn't heal well and brutal conditions of the camps in the middle of the desert only worsened the situation. This was when Alexander insisted that Hephaistion should go back to Babylon – to heal properly in the comfort of the palace, to deal with a number of internal squabbles that plagued the city, to see his newborn daughter and Alexander's own son born just a month after the army left Babylon. Reluctantly, Hephaistion complied but the capital of Persian Empire greeted him with a disaster that nobody could foresee. Roxana, resentful that Alexander didn't stay in Babylon to witness to birth of his first legitimate son and fearful that pregnant Stateira will give birth to her son's rival conspired with some renegades and luring both royal wives to her quarters had them killed.

Like some years ago, when Mazaeus and his entourage met Alexander and his army outside of Babylon to peacefully surrender the city, Hephaistion was met on almost exactly the same spot by Artiboles, Mazaeus oldest son and Tiaxet, Roxana's own brother. Only now it was not the keys of the city that Hephaistion's was presented with, but the chained and spiteful daughter of Oxyathres. Knowing what uproar among the Persian population of the Empire such a brazen act of cruelty would create and hating the necessity of bringing another problem to Alexander's doorstep, Hephaistion decided to deal with the problem himself, knowing full well that he would be blamed for overstepping his responsibilities. Even the all-powerful Chiliarch wasn't supposed to make life or death decisions in respect of the king's wives. Hephaistion disregarded the threat and secretly organized Roxana's escape from the lousy security of the temporally camp. When a few hours later frantic guards brought the news of Roxana's flight, he ordered the pursuit and when the prisoner and those who helped her were caught, Hephaistion was presented with the "sad" news that Roxana was killed in the melee. There was not much left to do. In order not to pollute Babylon's grounds with the body of the killer, Hephaistion ordered Tiaxet to take her remains back to Sogdiana and bury them without much fuss. He quietly rewarded the merchant who happened to be in the camp and who agreed to risk his life and that of his family by agreeing to present himself to Roxana and persuade her to escape promising the help on the way. Instead she was lured to prearranged spot and disposed of by Hephaistion's men who waited in hiding.

Bringing the peace of mind to the population of Babylon, he arranged for magnificent funerals for Stateira and Parisatis and dispatched the courier to Alexander to apprise him of this unexpected situation. When Hephaistion was about to leave Babylon and rejoin Alexander again, Sisigambis passed away and Hephaistion was obliged to stay longer and arrange another funerals. Reunited at last after almost a year, Hephaistion felt safe enough to share with Alexander those details of this sordid affair that he didn't wish to put in the official correspondence.

Alexander stopped playing with the colourful pyramid and with a deep sigh took a woolly toy camel from the stand. The animal lost one of his eyes to the tantrum of the young Alexander and his hind legs lost their fillings. Alexander's son, while alive, liked to abuse this animal and inflicted all sort of tortures on the unfortunate toy. Alexander had no doubt the reason for it was the fact that the toy was bought by Hephaistion and it was no secret that the prince hated his father's best friend. Returning from Babylon, Hephaistion brought in his train Alexander's son, Drypetis and their own daughter. He didn't want to risk leaving them in the city where anything could have happened to them at any moment. The king always believed that for those few months while Roxana was alive she passed to her son with her milk the hatred she hold towards Hephaistion, Drypetis and probably Alexander himself. It didn't help that the king felt little affection towards his future heir.

"You suffered so much because of me," Alexander squeezed the toy camel tight but it was obvious he was thinking of Hephaistion. Years passed in conquering. After submitting Arabia and having a few months rest in Egypt, Alexander with his army moved to Libya and Cartage. Another two years gone. Drypetis died in childbirth and so her unborn son. Alexander refused to marry again saying he had a son to follow him. Hephaistion followed the suit. Antipater died from a scorpion bite during the siege of Cartage and Cassander, his oldest son, started to create trouble for Krateros who, after serving a year as a governor of Macedon began to assault his king with letters asking to cancel his commission and allow rejoining the army.

Alexander procrastinated making any decision until a moment when Cassander kidnapped his half-sister Thessalonica and forcefully married her in the camp of the Getae where he escaped in hopes of stirring troubles and forging new alliances. Alexander was too far, across the Mediterranean and when he was listening to the grim news he was aware that the situation might have even worsened during the months it took for the messenger to catch up with the king. They could have used the impressive fleet of Carthage that they managed to capture but Alexander didn't want to risk his troops to the uncertainties of the mighty Sea.

It was when Leonnatos volunteered to go back to Macedon, replace Krateros as governor and deal with Cassander. All he asked in return was Alexander's trust, some troops, letter to Antigonus to provide all possible support and hand of king's widowed full sister Cleopatra.

"Look, I am not saying that I am the better general than Krateros, but his heart not in this squabble and he can't negotiate even with his own shadow."

Alexander agreed and never regretted his decision. Though Leonnatos was unable to rescue Thessalonica from Cassander's hands, he managed to conclude his own peace with Getae who didn't like the arrogant Macedonian who could produce very few allies to his course. For some time Cassander with his small band of renegades roamed the valleys of the river Istros. They settled for some time in Taurida, and then moved even further to the lands of Colchis where his quarrelsome and treacherous character made him and his small group of followers to flee from one village to another, losing some scoundrels to the skirmishes and acquiring others among the outcasts of society. Some ten years ago Alexander got a letter from Seleukos who choose to return to the homeland of his wife and govern Alexander's most easterly province. Seleukos wrote, among other things, about the demise of a family clan of some vagabond who settled somewhere on the remote cliff in Caucuses and terrorized his neighbors relentlessly. The news was brought by some merchant who ventured into those remote parts of the world to acquire some rare and precious healing herb that reputedly grew only there. In any case, for whatever reason, Seleukos was sure that the infamous brigand was none other but Cassander. Killed in some night skirmish, his meagre possessions caused the rife among his three remaining sons, one of whom managed to kill two others and his own mother because she dared to interfere.

Was it indeed the sad end of his half-sister he couldn't remember and his former classmate in Mieza? Hephaistion thought so, he suspected that Seleukos withhold some information in order not to upset Alexander. "Why Seleukos thought I would be upset by the death of the people I care little about when those who are far more close to my heart found their untimely and not so happy end?" Sometimes Alexander regretted that Moirai gave him such a long life, sometimes he envied Achilles for his glorious death in his prime. But he never dared to share those thoughts with Hephaistion; admitting to it would be admitting to regretting a long life with Hephaistion at his side. This, he definitely didn't regret. But did he treasure it enough?

Alexander looked at other souvenirs from his past. After crossing the Pillars of Hercules, they came to the world few of them imagined and knew about. But to their utmost surprise when they ventured along the shores of the unknown Sea beyond the Mediterranean, they met Pytheas, the Greek explorer from Masala who set his eyes to reach the distant legendary land of Thule in search of electrum, tin and adventure. For some time Alexander entertained the idea of changing his route and going with his army north but Hephaistion managed to persuade him not to. It was a game. Alexander knew in his heart, as much as he wanted, he couldn't go with Pytheas, Hephaistion knew it too but pretended he did not. The Army definitely didn't have Hephaistion's confidence and even Nearchos, always eager for another sea adventure, was frantic to change Alexander's mind. Alexander let himself to be persuaded, for a long hours during the day and during the nights too.

He abandoned all the pretense of "proper" behaviour after the Arabia. "What the f***, I am the king of the known world and I have to listen to the lectures on appropriate behaviour?!" The transition was smooth and to Alexander's surprise and even somewhat disappointment, the event didn't cause much talk and gossip. He even picked up the bits of phrases here and there in the camp, all of them along the lines that now, praised are the Olympians, they could stop wasting time trying to figure out where to look for Alexander or Hephaistion in the morning. Nearchos was the only one who dared to smugly challenge Hephaistion during the next morning meeting, "As a Chief of our Army Logistics, you were supposed to come up with this idea a long time ago. I hope it is not your habit to let Alexander to do all your work for you in the privacy of your bedroom."

Alexander fondly smiled. One could always count on Nearchos for a friendly but often risky taunt. When they were conquering Gaul, Nearchos fell in love with a magnificent river meandering through lush meadows and beautiful valleys. Whatever the local name was, the Macedonians made it into Lougros and when Alexander was looking to appoint a governor, Nearchos made it clear he wouldn't hesitate to kill any other candidate.

Ten years after leaving Babylon Alexander made it to the land of Etruscans. Another three years to conquer the peninsula. The Army grew into enormous body of people that was held together by irresistible charm of Alexander. Hephaistion taught the king to let it go.

"People need rest, Alexander. They want a piece of their own land, sometimes quite a big one," he piqued, "they want to feel being a master of the house. It is not possible with you, you are always their master."

"What about you? Aren't you tired of me?"

"Hmm, I think you have a wrong idea of who is exactly the master in this house!"

Alexander's heart sank. He missed Hephaistion so much. How did he even manage to survive without him this past half a year? Wasn't it, just as Hephaistion taught him, time to let it go?

The sound of the bell at the top of the curtain indicated to Alexander that somebody wished to talk to him.

"I don't want to see anybody," angrily announced the king.

"It is your grandson Alexander, he wishes to speak with you," the servant announced from behind the curtain.

"Tell him, another time. I am tired. I want to be alone."

"Of course, Basileus."

His grandson Alexander. How long he was going to hold the empire together? Will his current friends and supporters turn on him the moment Alexander himself dies? Will he continue to be the ruler nurtured by Hephaistion or the blood of his vicious father and grandmother will win in the end? Alexander's eyes watered. If he knew how the things would turn out, he would have strangled his son in his crib and sent his spirit to join that of Roxana. They planned the marriage of their children before those children even knew how to walk. Alexander, son of Alexander and Penelope daughter of Hephaistion. The girl's name was chosen by Drypetis, her mother. She explained it to Alexander, "Your son will follow in your footsteps, my king, and will roam the earth in the search of the people left to conquer. And my daughter, his wife, will wait for him patiently."

There was no doubt in anybody's mind that Alexander and Penelope were destined to marry each other. They were brought this way. Penelope took after her father in loving Alexander's son. Unfortunately, the young Alexander took after his mother in hating Hephaistion. Not that he behaved any better towards his own father or anybody else for that matter. He kicked his nurses, he bit his servants, he inflicted bruises on himself and then accused his caregivers of causing them. The older he grew, the more vicious he became. Several times he put aflame the beds of the people he chose to be his victims at those particular moments. He stole knives and stabbed passersby for no particular reason. This all happened even before the young Alexander reached the tender age of ten. Hephaistion had to keep Penelope under the heavy guard because the prince made no secret that he intended to harm her. Alexander felt desperate.

That was then his mother Olympia volunteered to take her grandson from her son's hands. But pretty quickly the old Epirote Queen regretted her decision. Even she couldn't handle her malicious grandson. Leonnatos sent worrisome letters that the notoriety of the future Macedonian King started to cause unwanted troubles home. Who would want such a person for a king? When Alexander was thirteen he ran away from Pella. For some years, he wasn't heard from and the King almost hoped that his troublesome offspring found his death at the hands of the similar human being.

"Maybe you should marry again or recognize Heracles as your son."

"I am not sure he is my son."

"Then marry, there is plenty of time to beget another son. To whom you're going to pass the throne of Macedon and all the lands you conquered?"

"There is my nephew, Cleopatra's son Neoptolemos. We'll marry him to Penelope and they will rule our empire."

It never came to pass. Alexander reappeared a few years later. He professed to be cured of his previous illness, as he called it himself. Most people were sceptical, Hephaistion among them, but Alexander wanted to hope. The young prince took active role in physical training, attended meetings and showed polite interest in Penelope. Hephaistion didn't like it. Alexander teased him.

"Why I never listened to you, Hephaistion? Why I didn't listen to you then?"

Alexander and his army returned to Babylon at the time. They were greeted by the old friends and enemies who professed to be friends. From Babylon they moved to visit the prominent cities of the eastern part of the empire. Alexander still didn't abandon the idea to conquer more of the India. By this time he had unlimited supply of fresh troops, younger and eager to prove their worth generals and the old comrades who now governed different corners of Alexander's empire.

And then one day, when the Imperial Court was in Zadracarta, Prince Alexander disappeared again. To his horror, Hephaistion discovered pretty soon that Penelope was missing too. Alexander was furious and ordered toothcomb search of the city and its surroundings. The fugitive and his prey couldn't be found. All the might of the Empire was thrown into the search. Rumors immediately surfaced that young Alexander had help, possibly even from the people of Sogdiana with whom he shared the blood. Or maybe the remnants of Spitamenes' troops. Few people still remembered that name, even Apama, his own daughter and wife of Seleukos from the Susa weddings didn't like to be reminded of her roots.

At some point Alexander, Hephaistion and other remaining generals of the older generations started to suspect that the tidbits of rumors about the Prince whereabouts suspiciously resembled the route that many years ago brought Macedonian Army to the now infamous Sogdian Rock. Alexander never saw Hephaistion so grim. He tried to cheer his companion that not all was lost and Penelope still could be found alive and well. The desperate king believed very little into his own words. They reached the foot of the Rock in the evening twilight. It seemed abandoned; no lights were seen at the top, where the dwellings were supposed to be.

Almost immediately the scouts brought horrific news. When Alexander saw them, he knew right away that something was wrong. Unfortunately, so did Hephaistion and some others. Perdiccas tried to distract Hephaistion and to lead him away under some plausible excuse. Hephaistion brushed his friend away and demanded from scouts to show what they found. There was nothing that could be done. Penelope's body, thrown from the top of the Rock, was almost unidentifiable in its disfigurement. To add insult to injury, the fake white wings were attached to her dress, also broken but still in recognizable shape, to remind Alexander and Hephaistion about the tease that the Rock inhabitants mocked Alexander many years ago.

The Rock was scaled but it was empty. The hunt continued during the night and brought results in the morning. The Prince and a meagre group of just eight follows were captured despite the evident effort not to be taken alive. Alexander never learned whether the group was always so small or the brigands split in order to avoid capture. Nobody cared enough to find out. The main culprit, the King's own son, was the only one who mattered. And now Alexander was faced with a horrifying task of finding an appropriate punishment for this son. Still, it was the easier task than Hephaistion faced – to bury his daughter.

There were many terrible ways to kill and torture and some Persian nobles were quick to share some of the traditional punishments that the Great Kings employed in the past. Alexander wanted to ask Hephaistion if he wished to take part in the proceedings but he didn't dare. It was Perdiccas who came to the King's and his beloved rescue. "You don't have to participate either," he advised Alexander, "the gods frown on the filicide, even when it is justifiable. I will take care of it." And that was all that Alexander and Hephaistion ever knew. They didn't doubt that the young Alexander died a horrific death but they never discovered the details.

Hephaistion took the death of his daughter very hard. It was not only the death itself but the manner in which she spent her last days and died, and the fact that it was a deliberate act of cruelty. They came back to Zadracarta and immediately knew something was off. After the few unsuccessful attempts to find out, one of the servants admitted that while in the palace, the Prince Alexander tended to hunt the young girls and rape them. What happened to other girls or who exactly they were, wasn't known but one girl got viciously beaten after the foul deed and was left for a dead in the corridor. Found completely by chance by a doctor who was returning from seeing one of the patients, she was taken care of by the companionate physician. Few months later she found herself pregnant but refused to name her attacker. She gave birth to a son but was very weak and felt she wasn't going to survive. Trying to secure the future of her son, she admitted to the doctor that the father of the child was none other but the king's son.

The girl died a few days later and the physician was left with a dilemma whether to let anybody know about the dead mother confession. The birth happened during the time when Alexander left to hunt for his depraved son. The news about the possible grandson of the king spread like a fire through the palace and when Alexander returned, the news was on everybody's lip.

"I don't believe he is my grandson!" was the first Alexander's reaction. "And even worse if he is. I don't want another monster. The best thing is to dispatch him to the realm of Hades right away."

"I think he is your grandson," insisted Hephaistion. "You shouldn't kill him. It's all about nurture not nature."

"How do you know?"

"That he is your grandson? I remember all too well how your son looked when I first saw him."

"In this case, his father killed your only daughter, why would you want him to live?"

"Because he is your heir, because he is innocent and because he is going to take after his father's father. Should we call him Alexander?"

"Whatever."

Hephaistion won and the young Alexander was proclaimed the heir to the throne. They dwelt in Zadracarta for some time and everybody was sure that Alexander would move east in another attempt to conquer all of India and the unknown lands that lay beyond. But the king surprised everybody again when he announced that he was going north instead, along the shores of Girkanian Sea. Maybe gods favored this plan because at first they went untroubled by anybody and then they received a delegation from one of the Masagetae tribes who said they were the second largest and powerful and they would like to become the first. Alexander saw an opportunity and formed an alliance. The alliance was successful and they moved swiftly and painlessly through the vast and previously practically unknown territory. The only problem was, there was not much to conquer, no cities, no riches but Alexander persisted and the army endured.

When they moved north of the Girkanian Sea, some of the Masagetae and other small Scythian tribes decided to hitch a ride with a huge army. They moved North West. The enourmous swaths of territory were empty and the Army, as usual, started to complain. This was when Alexander revealed the purpose of this march, they were looking for the mythical river Eridanus where the ill-fated Phaethon crashed his flame-engulfed chariot and where his sisters, the Heliades, cried the tears of electrum. It didn't add much enthusiasm to the spirit of the army but what choice did they have? Turning back at this stage was far less attractive option than many years ago in India.

This is how, almost three years later after leaving Zadracarta, they found themselves on the sandy shores of the unknown body of water where the first thing the locals tried to sell them were the precious tears of Heliades. By this time blond, curly, inquisitive boy Alexander left little doubt in anybody's mind that he was truly Alexander's grandchild, especially when he would turn his head to one side, just like The Great Macedonian, as the king became known, and ask, his grey eyes capturing its human prey with genuine excitement, "but why?", or "how is it made?", or, Alexander's personal favorite, "What is beyond that hill?"

Alexander's eyes watered as his glance fell on the little statue of Bucephalus carved from electrum that Hephaistion gave him a few months after they reached this unknown sea. The figurine was warm to the touch and shone in waves of gold when put against the bright light. "You remembered Bucephalus when there were few people in the army left who actually saw him alive. Though the King, Hephaistion and few remaining generals were with the king from the very beginning, the army was young, many of the soldiers and officers joined the army when it was already clouded in the mystic of unimaginable victories and adventures. There were people from all around the world and though Greek remained the main language of communication there were no less than hundreds of languages spoken by different groups. At last Alexander's dream came through, nobody any longer cared where you were born, and it were personal likes and dislikes that determined towards what group any particular member of the Army gravitated towards.

They stayed in the area for some time, exploring to the north and south; the conquering became an easy part, nobody could even think about resisting such a huge army and Alexander even became nostalgic about the times when his opponent was dangerous and far more numerous than his own contingent. He didn't send Hephaistion to the prolonged expeditions either. As the time went and both men became older, they took separation from each other even worse than when they were young. They knew that they were called Divine Twins in the army, so amazing was their ability to know what the other wanted, needed or was upset about.

…"If Nearchos was still nearby, I have no doubt he'd tease us being Incestuous Divine Twins, what do you think," murmured Alexander lovingly gliding his hands along Hephaistion's body.

"I think he would," agreed Hephaistion leaning for a kiss….

Alexander signed. The glimpses, sounds, and feelings of intimate touches invoked many happy years with Hephaistion. It didn't matter that gods were generous and gave them long life of incredible love and achievements; now, that Hephaistion was dead, memory was not enough, he needed the real Hephaistion, the numerous images and incantation of his beloved name gave little solace and brought tears of grief not joy, to Alexander's eyes.

"Hephaistion, remember how we chased each other in the sand dunes? In our fifties, we played hide and seek like teenagers in Mieza, we went treasure hunting for electrum on the shores of that strange shallow sea where you can go and go for almost an hour from the shore and the water was still below our knees. You loved the smell of those strange tall trees that had green needles instead of leaves and those funny small animals that looked like rats but had those magnificent furry tails, we fed them nuts and they came for more and more. We loved it there, don't we?

And I, just like the rest of the Army, was undecided where to move from there, some wanted to go back, others urged to go down where, as the rumors said, dark forests were inhibited by wild peoples and mighty rivers boasted enormous fish. There were even those who shared my secret dream to go further north and hoped to discover the mysterious land of Hyperboreans. We surely came close to where they lived.

But one summer day the villagers came to us running and saying that in the nearby bay, just a few pasarangs to the west, a few ships threw anchors and some of them spoke language similar to ours. We took our horses and less than an hour later we found ourselves chatting lively with Pytheas, the same Masaliot with whom we parted our ways on the shores of the mighty River Oceanus. And then we started to build ships, many ships, it took a few years and we split our huge army again. Some sailed, some went by the shore line. It was such an adventure. At some point we realized that we weren't conquering people anymore, we were conquering Nature itself. We thought the Gods would be jealous but which gods? We encountered so many of them and we prayed to them all and they all smiled on us. We were lucky, Hephaistion, so lucky. I tell you a secret, though. I never told you in person, I was afraid you would laugh at me, but during those days, I truly started to believe it was you the gods truly loved and favored, I just basked in your good fortune. Where would I be if the gods were cruel and we never crossed our path, or if you'd die young? Would I survive and achieve all I achieved now? I doubt it. I can't imagine my life without you and now that you are dead, what is there for me?

Sometimes I lay alone at night and I think the gods themselves don't allow me to die, they want me to experience what my life would be without you at my side. It's not a pretty picture, Hephaistion. I am so helpless but it is not because I am old and my wounds torment me, it is because you are not at my side any more and I don't know how much longer I can endure. Not much, I hope. Not much."


End file.
